


Praesul Presul

by Angst_BuriTTo



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Brain Damage, Crossover, Episode Fix-It: s04e13 Journey's End, Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Fix-It, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned River Song, Metacrisis Alec Hardy, Past Brain Damage (The Doctor), Past The Doctor/River Song - Freeform, Time Lord Alec Hardy, because that obviously had to have done something, due to aborted regeneration in journeys end, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angst_BuriTTo/pseuds/Angst_BuriTTo
Summary: “Where is our son, spaceman?” Donna demanded, “Where is Alec?”
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Beth Latimer, Alec Hardy & Donna Noble, Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Metacrisis Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble | The DoctorDonna, Tenth Doctor Duplicate & Twelfth Doctor, Twelfth Doctor & Donna Noble
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Praesul Presul

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing both Alec Hardy, and writing the twelfth Doctor — also I haven't written doctor Who in probably a decade. Please forgive me for any OOC moments or anything else I mess up.

* * *

DI Alec Hardy been in Broadchurch for 4 years now, between Danny Latimire’s murder, Joe Millers trial, the completion of the Sandbrook case, and Trish Wintermans case, Hardy had grown to tolerate the town of Broadchurch. Well, maybe a bit more than tolerate, if he really was being honest. While he still wasn’t a fan of the water and the whole happy smiling faces and the ceaseless saltwater air, Hardy had grown to like the atmosphere, and the friendliness of the small town. The town had grown to accept him, as much as he was a prickly grump, they seem to look at him fondly now, rather than with annoyance and disdain.

Though he was still occasionally called “Shitface” by his co-workers, though the acerbic bite had gone out of the appellation.

You could definitely tell that Hardy started fitting in more in Broadchurch when he walked down the Main Street and got hello’s and smiles from most of the people there, which he would return with a nod of his head, or a small smile that could barely be called a smile.

Which was what he was doing this morning. Ever since he got his pacemaker, Hardy had taken towards walking to work a couple times a week, to get his heart back in shape. On the weekends, he jogged in the early mornings, often running into Beth Latimir and joining her on her own route. They had gotten to know each other over coffee at the end of their jogs, though the first couple times were painfully awkward, Hardy’s social awkwardness when off a case thrusting it’s way to the forefront.

Today, Beth was lagging behind, having stopped to talk to the Vicer, who had a question about Chloe, who Hardy had picked up on truency, skipping school with her boyfriend, Dean. While her parents supported the young man dating Chloe, after they had Hardy do a background check on him (after all, the young man was just that, a young man, and was 24 to Chloe’s 18, and they had reason for paranoia with their oldest child after Danny), they did not approve on him going along with Chloe’s efforts to skip school to spend time with him. Dean admitted that he hadn’t supported Chloe skipping, but had known that she would have skipped without him, and had decided it was safer if he stayed with her instead of leaving her on her own. Hardy could respect that, though if it was his daughter, he would have preferred that Dean had called him and reported it. But it wasn’t his daughter — his daughter was 20 and an adult, and graduated. Chloe was graduating this year, but she had exams to do and collage applications to fill out.

Glancing at his watch, Hardy grimaced as he noticed his timing was off by five minutes this time. Not much, but considering he had to keep up a certain level of fitness to say in the force, five minutes could make or break his career. Hardy put it down to the fact he stayed up extra late last night trying to get some paperwork done that really could have waited until he got in the office on Monday. He heard someone call his last name, and looked up to see Ollie Steven’s waving at him.

He felt a twinge of irritation, still bitter at the way Ellie’s nephew had inserted his nose into Danny’s case and had almost cost the whole trial to fail spectacularly by some of his articles.

“Inspector Hardy!” Ollie greeted, smiling at him.

“Oliver,” Hardy intoned, looking at him suspiciously. “What do you want?” He bluntly asked.

Ollie’s grinned faltered, but returned a second later. “I heard word that you have family coming to town, is that true?”

Hardy grimaced, cursing Ellie for mentioning to her nephew that his family was possibly coming to visit. “Aye, possibly.”

“But you told Aunt Ellie that you don’t speak to your family anymore.” Oliver stated, his grin turning shark-like, smelling blood in the water. “Was that a lie?”

“No.” Was all Hardy replied, and started off towards the coffee shop, seeing Beth heading in.

“Inspector-“ Ollie tried, but Hardy shook his head.

“Bloody well mind your own damn business, Oliver. My family is not a story for your bleedin’ gossip rag section.”

“But-“

“Piss off.” Hardy snapped, speeding up, not bothering to look back at Oliver and what was no doubt a scowl sent his way.

The last thing he wanted to talk about was his _family_. The last time he saw his father, he was shouting at him for Dalek genocide, and the last time he saw his mother, she hadn’t even recognized him, his father wiping her memory.

The last thing he wanted was to tell the whole town that he was a biological metacrisis of the Doctor, an alien, and Donna Noble, the most important woman in the universe.

That would bring up far to many questions, and probably a few men in white holding a straight jacket.

“I ordered you your usual, Alec.”

Hardy gave the smallest of smiles and a gruff, “Thanks” to Beth as she handed him the steaming mug of black coffee, breathing in the smell. A sprouted grain bagel with jam sat on a plate, and a small donut hole.

“What did Ollie want this time?” Beth asked.

“Nothing important,” Hardy grunted, and Beth raised an eyebrow.

“For something ‘not important’, it certainly has you all growly.”

“This is my normal attitude, Beth.” Hardy defended, and Beth scoffed.

“Maybe a couple years ago it was, but you’ve gotten better since then.”

“I’m no longer ‘Inspector Shitface’, you mean.” Hardy rolled his eyes.

“Exactly,” Beth smiled. “So whatever nerve that boy touched must be a doozy.”

Hardy sighed, putting his coffee mug down. “He asked me about my family possibly coming to visit.”

Beth’s eyes widened. “But I thought you,” She paused, “I mean I assumed they had passed, you never talk about them, and I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories...”

“No. They are alive, I just don’t talk to them. Haven’t in over 20 years.”

“Can I ask-“ Beth began, but Hardy cut her off with a shake of his head.

“No.” At Beth’s frown of his snappish cut off, he added more gently, “I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want to talk about it. Those memories are...painful.”

“Of course,” Beth nodded. “I won’t ask anything else.”

“Thank you.”

“So, did you hear that Paul is setting up the bottle drive at the school this year?”

Hardy relaxed, falling into the inane chatter that he could lose himself in, eve if he was just listening.

* * *

  
  
“Oi! Spaceman!” Donna shouted, and the Doctor winced, running his hand through his grey curls. 

“Yes, Donna?” The Doctor grimaced, turning around and looking into the slightly aged face of his new-old companion.

“You still haven’t answered me,” Donna crossed her arms. “Where is our son?”

Swallowing, the Doctor felt dread pool in his stomach, and his feet itched to run from the upcoming slap he was most likely going to get.

“Ah. Yes, him. Handy. The metacrisis.”

“Our _son_ ,” Donna snapped, “Where. Is. He?”

“Yes, about that. I may have...Kickedhimoutafterierasedyourmemory.”

“You _whot_?!” Donna shouted, her blue eyes suddenly full of fire.

“He committed Genocide!” The Doctor defended weakly, knowing that wouldn’t help him in the least, but desperate to try and smooth Donna.

“Of the **_Daleks_** , Spaceman!” Donna snapped, “Who wanted to destroy the billion-trillions of life forms in the entire universe!”

“But-“

“No.” Donna growled, voice suddenly quiet and icy. “Don’t stand there and defend your choice to abandon _our son_ when I can see from a mile away how much you don’t believe your own words.”

The Doctor swallowed, his hearts aching, and he looked down to his shoes, hands reaching up to tug on his curls. “I know, I know...” The Doctor swallowed. “I was wrong, Donna. But I couldn’t...I didn’t want to admit it for so long, running from the face that reminded me...But then, I discovered I actually _hadn’t_ killed my own people...It was too late by then and I couldn’t bring myself to-“

“Where is he?” Donna asked again, “Where is Alec?”

“...A little town in near Dorset, called Broadchurch. He’s a police officer, detective inspector. He’s...” The Doctor smiled, sadly. “He’s brilliant.”

“Anything else?” Donna crossed her arms, and the Doctor knew she knew he was holding back.

“He had...Some heart trouble,” The Doctor continued quickly when he could see Donna start to panic, “HAD, _had_ , heart trouble. He has a pacemaker now. So that should be fine,” The doctor swallowed, before adding, “For now.”

“Excuse me? _for now_? What the bleedin’ flip does _for now_ mean, you daft alien?!” Donna jumped up.

“He’s part Time Lord, Donna,” the Doctor snapped back, before faltering, “When I restored your memories, and took out that Time Lord part of you, it may have left you...changed a bit, but what I took had to go _somewhere_.”

“It went back to him.” Donna gasped, looking stricken.

“Yes. His second heart will start beating soon, and with that pacemaker, it will make them go out of sync, not to mention Time Lord biology won’t accept that human pacemaker, it’s not compatible.”

“Take me to my son, Spaceman. **_Now_**.”

The Doctor could tell that if he didn’t do as she asked, she would most likely throw him into a new regeneration and take over the TARDIS and get there herself.

“Let me phone ahead, at least.” The Doctor tried, a part of him hoping that Alec would reject any contact — the man would recognize the number, no doubt.

Of course, when does the universe ever work in the Doctor’s favour?

Picking up the phone, the Doctor spared another look to Donna, then typed in the metacrisis’ name and genetic code into the TARDIS phone; no need for a phone number when the TARDIS can find you based on who you are — well, as long as he knew their genetic code. And Alec Donovan Hardy’s genetic code was seared into the Doctor’s brain.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

“Wot.” a distinctly grumpy and _Scottish_ version of his tenth body’s voice answered.

Swallowing through a dry throat, the Doctor spoke. “Is that any way to speak to your father?”

“...You’ve regenerated into a Scot.” Was all Alec said after a moment of silence.

“Like you can talk!” The Doctor protested, “I distinctly remember you having a west Surrey accent the last time we spoke.”

“The last time we spoke you had erased my mother’s memory of both of us and kicked me out of the only home I had ever known.” Alec snapped, and the Doctor could practically see the mans eyebrows doing that thing they did when he was angry, enough to rival his own attack eyebrows.

“Excuse me for wanting to distance myself as far as I bloody could from that, thank you very fucking much!” Alec yelled loud enough for even Donna to hear.

Donna frowned in reply, hitting a button on the consol and the phone was suddenly put into speaker mode.

“Oi! Language, young man!” Donna scolded Alec; the Doctor could hear a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the phone.

“...Mum?” Alec wheezed, his voice trembling. “Mum _how_ —“

“Your father fixed me, removed the Time Lord part of those memories, but sweetheart, the Time Lord part had to go somewhere and —“

“It went into me, didn’t it?” Alec’s voice went flat.

“Er, yes.” The Doctor answered. “And that’s not good because —“

“My pacemaker will go from saving my life to killing me.” Alec growled. “Shit. Bloody fucking _shit_!”

“Oi!” Donna snapped, and Alec mumbled an insincere sounding apology.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can, Alec, I promise. Everything will be ok,” Donna soothed, and Alec scoffed.

“I doubt his driving has improved any, so I’ll expect you anytime between 2 minutes and 2 years from now.”

“My driving isn’t that bad!” The Doctor snapped, and Alec only scoffed again before a dial tone was heard. “Cheeky bastard,” The Doctor grumbled.

“Yeah,” Donna gave him a knowing look. “Chip off the old block, ain’t he?”

“Chip off both blocks.” The Doctor muttered, and Donna whacked his shoulder. “Oi! Don’t abuse me, woman!”

“Doctor. My Son. Now.”

“All right, all right.”

Tracking the general location from the phone call, the Doctor flipped the dematerialization lever.

* * *

  
  
In mid-conversation with Beth and Ellie two weeks later on a Friday night from his father’s phone call, Hardy was just getting up from Ellie’s dinner table with the plates when he heard that familiar wheezing and groaning that heralded his father’s arrival. 

Only problem is, it was right in front of his two friends. His two _very human_ friends that had no clue he was _anything but_ human.

_Buggering hell_. Hardy cursed internally. Of all times his father had to show up, it had to be _now_?

“Bloody hell, that man has bad timing.” Hardy cursed, to the confusion of Beth and Ellie, who were looking at the appearing TARDIS in shock. But not _fright_ , Hardy noticed with some interest.

The TARDIS, having completely materialized, made one last ‘thunk’ before settling. It wasn’t even two seconds later before the doors threw open and he only saw a shock of ginger hair before he was engulfed in a tight, very tight, motherly hug.

“Oh Alec, I missed you!” His mothers voice mumbled in his shoulder, and Hardy hugged her back just as tightly.

“Mum...” He gasped, burying his face into her hair, smelling that unique blend of her mint shampoo and that scent that was purely _mum_ ; there was another scent there, now, too — it reminded him of the Time Lords, and their particular, unique scent.

“Mum?!” Beth’s shocked voice from behind him, and Hardy winced, releasing his mother, before turning around to see Beth and Ellie looking between him and Donna in confusion.

Donna looked like his own physical age of 34, maybe a bit older, so Hardy couldn’t blame them for their confusion.

“I can explain —“ Hardy started, but was interrupted by Ellie letting out a laugh.

“Oh my _God_ this explains _so much_!” Ellie looked to Beth, who nodded.

“The Doctor is your father, isn’t he?” Beth asked, her face lighting up.

Hardy’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish, for the first time in his life, not knowing what to say at all.

“Beth? Beth Stewart?” The Doctor — now looking like a older man with grey curls and fairly slim and tall, popped out of the TARDIS, looking delighted. “And Ellie Yates!”

Hardy felt his eyes widen, and his breath catch — his two best friends were the daughters of his father’s best friends back in his 2nd-4th incarnations? The _irony_ — bloody hell.

“Bloody hell, no wonder you were such a knob,” Ellie raised an eyebrow. “You get it from your father!”

“Oi!” The Doctor protested, and Hardy smirked.

“That’s right, Miller, that’s exactly where I get it — and being kicked out of the TARDIS the same day I was bloody _born_ didn’t help my disposition any.”

“Doctor!” Beth gasped, looking at the Alien, shocked, “You didn’t!”

“Ah, well,” The Doctor hedged, and was promptly smacked across the cheek — twice. One from Beth, and one from Ellie.

“Bloody _hell_ , women!” The Doctor growled, looking contrite. “ _always_ the mothers...”

“What was that, Spaceman?” His mother said sweetly. And the Doctor paled.

“Nothing at all.”

“Thought so.” Donna nodded, then turned to the two other woman in the room. “I’m Donna Noble,” she reached out a hand to be shaken, pointing her free one at Hardy, “This one’s mum. And yes, it does sound bad, kicking him out when he was born,” Donna shot a dark look at the Doctor, who just ducked his head and shuffled his feet, looking awkward. “And it _is_ , it’s a lot more complicated than that. You see, the Doctor lost his hand after regenerating a couple christmases ago...”

While Donna told Beth and Ellie about his creation, Hardy took the time to examine his father, who was preoccupied looking around the room and scanning everything with his sonic screwdriver, or just picking things up and looking at it.

Despite having a lot of resentment for his father, Hardy couldn’t help but miss the father that shared his face — while at the same time he felt loss over the fact that his father no longer shared his face, too. This man...seemed far older than 20 years older than Hardy, and not just because of the lines on his face or his grey hair. It was in the eyes; even the small glimpses Hardy got when the Doctor side-eyed him, he could the weight of years ever heavy and present in those bright blue eyes. Far older and far more weary than when Hardy had last seen him. There was grief in those eyes, loss and pain; far more than the incarnation that shared his own face held. Hardy couldn’t help but feel grateful that he didn’t share those experiences with his father. While he still resented being kicked out and forced to take the slow path, he was glad he hadn’t experienced whatever events had put all that pain and loss in the ancient blue eyes. He had enough nightmare fodder, thank you very much — the last thing he needed was more of it.

“...Alec?” Hardy broke out of his thoughts and faced his two friends.

“You two are the Brigadier’s and Sergeant Yates’ daughters?” Hardy questioned, making sure he heard right.

Both nodded.

“Please tell me that the reason I was transferred over here wasn’t a request from UNIT so that they could keep an eye on me,” Hardy winced, immediately wishing to take that back at the dark look Ellie shot him.

“Oh, please,” She snapped, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, Hardy. I wanted that job, thank you very much, and I certainly would not be paid enough to take care of you, you knob.”

“Oi!” Hardy protested, “I can take care of myself, thank you very much!”

“Oh really,” Beth raised and eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Other than tonight, when was the last time you cooked yourself a meal that wasn’t take out, or leftover take out, or a microwave dinner?”

“I eat healthy! I have to!”

“Oh sure, you eat the bare minimum of healthy, is what you do.”

“The world, actually wouldn’t be revolving, if it wasn’t for him.”

The sudden change in subject from the person who had so far stayed out of everything made them all jump.

Hardy looked to his father in shock; the Doctor just looked steadily back.

“Whot?” The DI asked, bewildered.

“If it wasn’t for you, the Daleks and Davros would have destroyed the universe with the Reality Bomb. So...The world is still revolving, thanks to you.” His father didn’t look away from Hardy’s eyes when he said this.

“Is this...some kind of apology?” Hardy asked, confused

The Doctor nodded, stiffly. “Aye, please don’t mention it. Really. Let’s just move on and —“

“Move on.” Hardy said flatly. “You want me to _move on_. You want me to just _move on_ from the fact that you _abandoned_ me, scared, confused, just born, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a bloody brand new human identity with now idea how to _be human_. You want me to _forget_ that you kicked me from the only home I have EVER known, with a damaged heart and no idea what to do or where to go?”

“Right.” The Doctor swallowed. “Lot to ask for. I know. Which is why I’m not asking you to forget or move on.” The Doctor grimaced. “I have no right to ask that. But what I would like to ask for, is eventual forgiveness, if possible. What I did was wrong, and no matter what state of mind I was in at the moment, nor my health, I should have let you stay.”

The Doctor looked like he was about to move on from that, but Hardy caught something e thought was important.

“What do you mean, your state of mind or health.”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter —“

“Oi, Spaceman!” His mum glared daggers at the Doctor. “It does matter. Spill, now.”

“It’s nothing, There was no excuse —“

“Please, dad, what was it?” Hardy knew it was a cheap shot, calling the Doctor dad; not when he really wasn’t feeling it yet, but he needed to know.

The Doctor sighed. “Look, there’s reasons that it’s dangerous for a Time Lord to hold of a regeneration, ok? It’s not — it’s can affect the brain, because that’s the first thing to start rewiring. The likes, dislikes, preferences, emotions, reactions to stimulus, visual recollection, even sensory input. It all changes first. You’re not supposed to stop that, because if you do, it can damage you. But I couldn’t regenerate in the middle of a battle, I would have been absolutely useless. I would have gotten everyone killed. It’s the reason the regeneration after that one was so explosive, and that face had some...oddities. When I cut the regeneration off and siphoned it onto you, I temporarily damaged my brain. I wasn’t thinking straight, my emotions were off, I couldn’t take in stimulus of visual signals properly, and my emotional and preferential reactions were...discombobulated. Everything was off.”

“Oh, spaceman...” mum hugged his father.

“You were severely brain damaged at the time you kicked me out, and when you wiped mum’s memories, is what you’re saying.”

The Doctor nodded. “Very much so.”

Hardy sighed, sitting down on the nearest chair and covering his face with his hands.

“Bloody _fucking_ hell.” He groaned into his palms. Looking up, he met his fathers eyes.

“Then I can’t blame you for your actions. You were mentally impaired — you weren’t in your right mind. You’re innocent due to mental illness.”

“Sorry, but can we get back to the fact that you are even _here_ , Doctor?” Ellie crossed her arms over her chest. “Because in both my experience, and my parents, you only come when trouble is about to happen, whether you know it or not.”

“Ah, yes, about that.” The Doctor pointed at Hardy. “You, in the TARDIS, emergency surgery time, you can drop any moment and then where would you be?”

Sighing, Hardy stood up, walking towards the TARDIS. “Dead, I imagine.”

“Exactly, so chop chop.”

“Excuse me, _dead_?”

“Surgery?! But you just had one for your pacemaker!”

Ellie and Beth’s confusion lasted just as long as it took them for Donna to explain that Hardy was now a full Time Lord with duel hearts and a binary vascular system and the Pacemaker could kill him when his new biology caught up and tried to reject the foreign object — and they had no idea if he would regenerate, not without being exposed to the schism, so they would rather not risk it.

Walking into the TARDIS, Hardy glanced curiously around the new interior of the Time Ship; the interior was darker, more metal and sharp, clean lines with a wrap around balcony that contained bookshelves and a blackboard covered in equations, and a few Knick knacks. The console was topped with a set of levels that contained Gallifreyan writing, and Hardy was shocked yet pleased to see that they were all the names of companions who had traveled in the TARDIS. There were names he didn’t recognize that he was sure came after his conception, like “Amelia Jessica Pond” and “Rory Arthur Williams”, “Clara Oswin Oswald”, “Bill Potts” and, strangely, a singular “Missy”.

“You’ve redecorated,” Hardy commented, and the Doctor nodded.

“Let me guess, ‘you don’t like it’.”

“No, actually,” Hardy grinned slightly at his father’s surprised look. “I approve, especially the names. I see a few I don’t recognize.”

“A story for another time.” The Doctor dismissed. “Off to the Medical room with you, emergency surgery time.”

“Aye,” Hardy groaned, “I know, I know. Bloody hell, I’m tired of Doctor’s poking and prodding at me.” His father shot him an offended look, and Hardy rolled his eyes. “The medical, human kind. Though the jury’s out on if I’ll feel the same about you once this is dealt with.”

“This should be a fairly simple operation — once the pacemaker is out, your Time Lord biology should kick in and fully take over, then we have you take a look out the TARDIS door when we are in the vortex for 5.98 earth seconds and you should be completely fine. Might even be a bit younger, though I could be wrong and you might go mad.”

“Oh, thanks, very helpful. I feel so reassured.” Hardy drawled out, the sarcasm absolutely dripping from his words. Hopping up on the medical table anyways, Hardy paused before laying down. “Just — just one thing, that’s been bugging me — well it bugged the incarnation I was born from, and it’s bugged me too — did we ever find out who Professor River Song was?”

The Doctor’s hands paused from where they were hovered over a laser scalpel from the late 54th century. Hardy couldn’t see his face, but something about his stiff posture made him almost regret asking about the mysterious woman. Almost.

“Please,” Hardy asked, “I might not survive this — you said so yourself. I just want to know the answer to a mystery that I could never solve. She knew him — you, but he didn’t know her. She _died_ for him. I’m the closest thing your tenth incarnation has, I deserve to know.”

The Doctors’ hands gripped the metal table tightly, releasing a heavy breath, before speaking.

“She was my wife. She also was the woman who was charged with my murder, though she never actually killed me — not the _real_ me anyways. I loved her... _love_ her...very much. The last time I saw her was 8 months, 9 days, 12 hours, 58 minutes, and 42.9 seconds ago. I had taken her to Darillium, we spent the night, and then she left after sunset...off to the Library.”

Hardy swallowed. The grief in his father’s voice was palpable. It grasped at Hardy’s hearts and squeezed. River Song, for all intents and purposes, had technically been his stepmother. She had seemed, from his memories of the Library, as brief and as short as they were, like a woman he would have liked; River Song seemed like a woman he would have enjoyed spending time with. And he had never gotten to know her, not really. It wasn’t _him_ whom had been at the Library, after all. He had just the memories — the _memory_. His father was the one who had what was probably centuries of memories with her. Centuries of love and laughter and adventure, all with the knowledge the the woman he had married and fallen in love with was technically already dead, years ago in his own timeline, and knowing that one day...one day he would turn up with a new suit, a new haircut, and take her on a date to see the singing towers...and then say goodbye, sending her on her way to her death, her eternal tomb.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Was all Hardy could thing to say. It was like putting a plaster on a cracked open rib cage, but it was all he could thing to say.

“Thank you.” The Doctor cleared his throat, before turning to face Hardy, his eyes slightly red and swollen. “Now, would you like local anesthetic or knocked out completely?”

Hardy just shot him a look, and the Doctor nodded.

“Knocked out it is. Lay down, and count backwards from five.”

Hardy did as his father said, and took a breath, before counting backwards.

He was greeted by blackness before he reached 4.

Waking up to a strong double heartbeat and a slightly aching chest filled Hardy with relief. He could feel his physiognomy and biology just completing the last stages needed to fully become Gallifreyan, and he felt his mind racing at 85.6 x the speed and agility it was used to, even though it had been nothing to sneeze at before by late 51st century human standards. Sitting up, he could feel one last shift of his organs, he was pretty sure it was his respiratory bypass settling in, before it was done.

“You made it, then. Good. I don’t think Donna would be happy with me if I killed our son in the process of saving his life. She might just decide to kill me this time.”

Hardy snorted, looking up to see his father staring intensely at him with those bright blue eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul.

“Glad you didn’t kill me, then.”

“How do you feel?”

Taking a deep breath, examining all his functions and the ways his mind was going a million miles an hour, Hardy grinned.

“Fantastic. I feel...Alive; for the first time since I was born I feel...Alive.”

The Doctor cracked a small smile, and Hardy thought he could detect a bit of fondness there.

“Good. I’m glad. Now, are you ready to see the vortex? I left Donna and your two friends back at their house, best not risk accidental exposure to the humans, and Donna already had hers.”

Steeling himself, Hardy tried to let go of his instinctual fear of looking into the Time Vortex; his father had told Martha Jones and Jack Harkness once: Some are inspired, some of them run, and others...they go mad. He didn’t want to be in the last category. The last thing the universe needed was another Master — especially one with the Doctor’s memories.

The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS, and the Vortex met the eyes of Detective Inspector Alec Donovan Hardy.

Hardy felt all of time and space our itself into his head — what had been, what will be, and what could be, even what could have been. Hardy felt the universe sing in his mind and the song of Time vibrate in his bones.

He felt...

**_Inspired_**.

The door closed, and Hardy blinked, a bit dazed. The Doctor blocked his view, and Hardy took a step back, his eyes roving over every bit of the massive expanse of the Doctor’s timelines.

“Well?”

Hardy breathed in. He breathed out.

“I’m fine. I-“

“Yes, Alec?”

“Protector.”

The Doctor frowned. “Pardon?”

“My Title.” Hardy eleberated. “The Protector.”

“Ah, I see.” The Doctor scrutinized Hardy. “And what does that title mean to you? What is the promise you are making taking it?”

“Never judge without clear reason,” Hardy began, “Never hurt unless in defence. Always protect those that need it, defend those that need defending. Be kind, yet fair. Never lie without good reason, and never let reason interfere with being kind. Never give in to those that would subdue others, and never give up in pursuit of justice. Do not encourage without first teaching, and never teach without first having knowledge of the subject.”

The Doctor smiled a proud look shining brightly in his eyes, and Hardy felt himself smile widely back.

This was a new beginning — but of what, he had no idea; but he was certain of one thing:

Whatever he faced next...

He was ready for it.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  



End file.
